"Everything," she spat. "Our relationship, us, you. You've given up, Sajan. And I don't know if I can do this anymore."

"You don't even try anymore, do you?" she accused, her voice low but venomous.

Yamayi noticed the change in his expression. "Who's that?" she asked, her voice softer now, laced with a hint of fear.

"Hey, how was your day?" he asked, though his tone suggested he cared little about the answer.

Sajan's heart sank. This was not the first time such messages had appeared, but they always left him with a bad feeling.

Sajan was taken aback. "Try? What are you talking about?"

Just then, his phone buzzed. It was a message from an unknown number: "Meet me at the usual place. I need to talk to you."

The door creaked open, and Yamayi walked in, her heels clicking on the marble floor. Sajan, lying on the bed, turned to face her, trying to muster up a smile.